


Seasons: Yuki

by KeiKatayama



Series: Memoir [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Colds, Cuddles, Fluffy fluff-fluff, M/M, Snow, Storm Emma, katsudon pirozhki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-03-25 19:24:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13841394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeiKatayama/pseuds/KeiKatayama
Summary: Welcome to the first of the Seasons collection! Seasons is a set of unconnected one shots within the Memoir universe. Originally, Yuki was called Emma, after Storm Emma which hit Britain around the time of Yurio's birthday. Please have a look out for the others!Very simple premise for this one shot: Yuri gets a cold, Victor looks after him, Yurio makes katsudon pirozhki.Edited: 27th May 2018 - new reference pictures, minor editing to prose.





	Seasons: Yuki

**Author's Note:**

> Now, for any newcomers, I use the subtitled spellings for everyone's names, so Yuuri is Yuri and Viktor is Victor. To help, I very rarely refer to Plisetski as Yuri. He's stuck with Yurio, gomen.
> 
> And you'll need to read Everything On The Ice for Sobachin. She's a poodle too, she's only a puppy, she won't bite. And Victor and Yuri moved out, I'm not explaining what the house looks like again, that was nearly a whole chapter on its own in EotI.

_Seasons_

* * *

March

(Happy Birthday Yurio x)

Hasetsu

* * *

_Yuki_

_(Formerly 'Emma')_

* * *

* * *

"Yuki ga!" I exclaimed excitedly, staring out the windows of Ice Castle.

Yurio just glared at me from across the ice. "Huh?" He needed to work on his Japanese, lazy boy. "Oh, it's snowing."

Yes, I just said that...

Yuri skated up to my side, smiling at me. I think he was smiling more at my excitement, not his own, but I'd take that too. He came to a stop with his hand on my shoulder, and I handed him his glasses so he could see better. With the world in focus, he was a little taken-aback. "It's so heavy..."

Yurio glared at us. I sympathised. We'd seen far worse in our lives in our homeland on a regular basis. In Kyushu however, when Spring was meant to be on its way, snow like this was a little extreme. The flakes were so big they cast a shadow on the ice.

It snowed like this when I first came here. Remembering with great fondness, I took Yuri's hand from my shoulder, pressed a kiss into his palm, not caring that he was sweaty from practice. That felt like so long ago now, yet I could remember it so clearly. Arriving at the fantastical gateway entrance of Yu-Topia Katsuki Onsen, the snow falling heavily, Makkachin catching snowflakes on his tongue, happy because they tasted better in Hasetsu where it was less polluted. Knocking on the door nervously before fumbling a bit with the sliding door, and the look on Toshiya-otosan's face as he looked up from his sudoku, mid-welcome. "Konbanwa! Yu-Topia Katsuki Onsen e yō- _ooooh_!"

When my Japanese was good enough to ask, I asked my father-in-law later why he'd reacted like that. He laughed, and, without a hint of self-consciousness, told me it was because I was the prettiest man to walk into his onsen. And I looked familiar, strikingly similar to the good-looking foreign skater on Yuri's posters in his bedroom, that one from the TV that Yuri and Minako-sempai were always watching, the Russian one who always got the gold medals... but at the time he couldn't remember the skater's name and was dazed for a second. Then he shouted to Hiroko-okasan in Japanese and I caught Yuri's name. At least I'd come to the right place, I remember thinking, even if I had no idea what they were saying. Then Toshiya-otosan turned to me with a welcoming smile. "Sorry! My son, his English better. Welcome! Dōzo, dōzo!" And I got swept up in the tide towards the hot springs, sighing as the hot water instantly washed away my jet lag, even a little of my nervousness, and the rest is history.

(Well, not quite, it will be now: I was  _so_ nervous when Yuri skidded out into the hot spring, in his socks and coat, his glasses steamed up. I'd thought we'd finally cross paths inside, when I wasn't completely naked. That  _wasn't_ intentional. I felt at a disadvantage, in the water, without a stitch, an imposter without invitation. In that moment, I couldn't afford to sound or feel weak, so I played the strongest card I had; the Sochi Banquet. He'd been so seductive, both with and without his clothes on, before he got even drunker and got just so, so, _so_ cute. Well, two can play at that game, my darling, and you did ask me to come. So you got me on a plate.

Then I got used to being naked. I love Japanese bath houses. It's so... _liberating_.)

I hadn't seen it snow like that since. Some flurries, but the winters had been milder since. I hoped it would set, absent-mindedly wondered if the heating was on at home, looked forward to seeing Sobachin go nuts for the snow again. I turned to Yuri, about to tell him I'd make stew for dinner, something hot and homey, when he suddenly sneezed. My sentence died on my tongue before I could even begin. "Yuri?" He didn't just look sweaty, he looked flushed; too sweaty and flushed for just the practice. I stroked his hair and put my hand on the back of his neck so he couldn't escape when I pressed my forehead to his. His eyes widened,  _caught_. He was fevered, hot and shivering, and not in a good way.

"Ugh, do you two _ever_ stop?" Yurio complained, pulling a face. Yuri turned away with a sheepish smile, and slipped away before I could stop him. Baka.

I know how stubborn Yuri can be. I didn't bother telling him that he ought to stop and rest; I did however go and get his jacket and forced it on him, ignoring him when he said he didn't need it.  _Yes, damn it, you did._ But the Worlds were coming up, and Yurio didn't seem to notice his coach's red cheeks, his sluggishness. He noticed the sneezing, but just pulled a face because it was gross. I stood there, frowning pointedly at Yuri with the box of tissues (I still think of it as the Makkachin box), holding it out every time Yuri needed it.

Yuri knows how stubborn  _I_ can be. I was waiting for one of two things to happen, was tapping my skate to speed things along. Either Yuri would cave, or -

"Oi, Katsu," Yurio glared at his coach. Yuri was so exhausted he didn't even smile, as we usually do, at Yurio's unintentional complimenting nickname. "Your skating's shit today; I'm heading home." Later, whilst Yuri dejectedly struggled with his skates, Yurio spoke quietly to me in our common tongue. "Hell's wrong with him?"

I raised an eyebrow, and spoke back in stubborn English. "You do remember he learnt Russian, right? He probably remembers that one."

Yurio rolled his eyes at me. "Please, his Russian's even more shit than his skating today. We're leaving for the Worlds next week, is he -?"

"He'll be fine, Yurio," I interrupted impatiently. I didn't care for the boy's tone; you don't have to be a brat _all_ the time, Yurio. "He's just got a cold."

He was silent for a moment, then sulkily started to leave. "Whatever. Just fix him." My turn to roll my eyes.

Yuri doesn't get sick very often, nor I. But when he does, he... tends to pretend it's not happening. So I had to  _order_ him to take vitamin tablets and wrap up warmly, even go to bed early. He couldn't taste the stew, nearly passed out in the bath - I almost had to fish him out of the cold water, that didn't help - and stubbornly stayed sprawled on the rug, determined to enjoy the view of the snow falling on the skylight, lying beneath it. I caved at that last, and piled every blanket at my disposal on him, whether he liked it or not.

As beautiful as the skylight was, it had a downside, we had learnt; it took forever for that room to heat up. I'm glad I had floor heating put in under the raised floor. That winter we'd carefully kept all the doors shut, and piled up throws and blankets so that we could snuggle up together on the heated floor, could make love without freezing our asses off under the skylight when we were in a romantic mood. That centre was where we would eat, where we would chat about everything, where we would sit and read and watch TV or a movie. It was our lounge. But we could see now why the previous owner had made the ballet room his refuge. The house was designed to take advantage of the summer, with those enormous windows that slid open into the garden and expected milder winters in Kyushu. But we loved it anyway.

I frowned as Yuri started a coughing fit, and sighed defeatedly. "Yuri... come on. Let's get you to bed." And I carefully lifted him up, extracting him from the nest of blankets. He shivered instantly in my arms from the change in temperature, and tiredly pressed himself against me, seeking my body heat. Oh... my silly darling. He was almost asleep by the time I tucked him in bed, it was easy to puppeteer him into stripping off his day clothes, putting on warmer pyjamas, taking paracetamol to bring his temperature down so he could get to sleep.

Don't read this the wrong way: I could barely take my hands off him.

Oh for... not like _that_. Ew... he was all snotty.

No, I mean... I stroked his hair a lot. I hugged him. I even pretty much dressed him. I rubbed his back. I... I remembered getting ill as a child, having to take breaks from school, from skating, though not often. I remembered wanting to be comforted, because I felt so poorly, of almost needing the feel of someone else's heat as a reference for how warm I should be. As an adult, being sick was a lonely affair, having to fend for myself, though Makkachin helped, letting me spoon into his fur. My sole human contact those days tended to be Yakov, but by phone, being issued strict instructions not to come to the rink and spread my germs to the other skaters, and to rest properly so I could come back sooner. In this I learnt to do as I was actually told, would nearly over-dose on orange juice for the vitamin C, would sleep whenever I could sleep, and eat even if I didn't feel like it, even if all I could stomach was toast. Now that Yuri and I were together however... I broke the rule about spreading germs, and let him. When he reached out to me instinctively in his sleep as I slid into bed next to him, switching off the light, I pulled him into my arms and lent my chest to him as a pillow. I woke in the morning to find he'd drooled into my t-shirt, but I didn't mind. Well, much.

When Yuri tried to get up that morning, looking like a zombie, having woken both of us up with his coughing, I made him stay in bed. I made him toast, and a giant glass of orange juice, and gave him more pills and told him to sleep again. Yurio had already texted me to say he was taking a day off, had posted a picture on Instagram of himself waiting for the train to Fukuoka, followed by an awkward selfie taken by Minami greeting him on the other side. We were both a little surprised by that; the caption explained that Minami was showing Yurio around the city, which was equally unlikely. Yuri was too tired to think much of it, but I smiled at the photo. Yurio, what were you up to? In any case, I unexpectedly found myself with a day off too...

We had a duvet day. I left Sobachin with Yuri and picked up some things, grinning as I crunched through the ankle-deep snow, had a chat with the shop-owner, who complimented my Japanese. We laughed over the news that parts of Britain had effectively ground to a halt from a snow storm there too, and I told her about snow in St Petersburg, about how a few inches was nothing. She was originally from Hokkaido; she measured snow in feet, not inches. We sympathised however; no matter how much, snow isn't safe, and where it was not normal there was no established protocol, a dangerous jarring of routine. I was about to say that business continues as normal in Japan because of their hard-working ethos, but I knew from travelling for competition that actually everywhere is like that, no matter where you go people work hard at their lives.

I went home, shivering as the wind bit at my ears across the bridge, made coffee - the Italian way, with a mocha express on the stove - then got my laptop and went back to Yuri, who was still moving in and out of sleep, snuffling from his blocked nose. I worked on this, my memoir, smiling on occasion at the subject of it. I made some lunch, took Sobachin for a walk, laughed as she went ballistic in the snow, making it crunch under her paws, diving into drifts like a maniac. We came home, had a nap too, the pair of us spooning Yuri. He wrinkled his nose at the wet-dog smell, even though he could barely smell anything, and turned into me; I reached over him and patted Sobachin's head commiseratingly. She didn't mind; Yuri had just vacated his warm spot for her by turning over.

I woke when someone knocked on the door loudly, persistently, and then let themselves in anyway. As Sobachin looked up and wagged her tail I groaned, unable to help it. I shouldn't have let Yuri give Yurio a spare key... why did he do that...?

"Oi, Victor, Katsu, you'd better not be -" He appeared at the bedroom door, one hand over his eyes. I glared at him when he put his hand away.

"Yurio, what are you doing here, I thought you were in Fukuoka with Minami?"

He shuffled awkwardly and then held a bag up. "I found what I needed. Well, no I didn't, I was looking for beetroot, but they weren't so great." He elaborated no further and just stared down at us in bed for a second. I raised an eyebrow; what? "Are you guys ever _not_... crap, what was the word Kenjy used..." Kenjy? "Ka... kawa... no...  _kawaii_."

I blinked at him, and then sniggered. I grinned. "Too sickly sweet for you, Yurio?"

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I'm using your kitchen." ... Umm... okay. He looked awkward again. "I'm making katsudon pirozhki. I was going to make borscht, but no decent beetroot." My grin dropped straight off my face as I put two and two together. He went to Fukuoka to look for beetroot. He... "Want some?" And he glared at me, as if daring me to decline.

My eyes widened, and I nodded. Yurio promptly vanished, and Sobachin got up and followed him curiously. Soon I heard the sound of cabinets being riffled through, of the bag he'd brought with him being plonked on the counter, of Yurio affectionately telling Sobachin to get out of the way. Yuri frowned in his sleep, but slept on. I kissed his forehead, and got up, pulling on a jumper as I followed Sobachin. Sure enough, there was Yurio weighing out flour, the contents of the bag - there were things he didn't need to bother bringing, like a small bag of rice, peas, pork cutlet even - spread across the island top. I sat on one of the stools at the island, where Yuri and I normally have breakfast, and watched as Yurio peered impatiently at the activating yeast in a bowl. Then he started hunting for -

"Where are all your chopping boards?" He asked with a snap.

I pointed. He found what he needed and started preparing the katsudon elements. After a while he stopped looking so annoyed at my presence and just folded away into baking. He had flour on his cheek. And it all smelt _fantastic_.

Little Yuri... you don't do it very often, but when you do surprise me, you really do. My Yuri appeared just before Yurio put the oil on to heat, wrapped up with a blanket. By then I had flour on my face too, having helped Yurio with the production line of rolling the port cutlet with the egg and rice into the dough. Yurio had made me laugh when he snapped that I was doing it all wrong. I washed my hands, sat down with Yuri, ignoring his protests as I shuffled my stool closer to my beloved and wrapped my arms round him, ignored him as he said he would make me sick too. I didn't care. Yurio was too busy cooking to pay attention to us, but I saw it anyway.

Yurio smiled.

I have only fond memories of snow in Hasetsu.

(Yuri and I got him a gold apron for his nineteenth birthday. He both loved and hated it. Specially the flour-cat-paw-prints.)

* * *

 

* * *

To be continued in

 _Everything on the Ice_  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, Victor's comment about onsens being liberating...
> 
> They are. They really are. Three years ago I went to Oedo Onsen in Odaiba, and another in Hakone. Now, I'm a woman and I've got a bit of a belly, so I'm no Victor, but... when everyone's naked and you get used to it, eventually you just stop caring too much, because no one looks the same. 'Normal' or 'average' genuinely doesn't exist when it comes to human bodies.
> 
> It's quite nice, because I took that feeling with me when I left.


End file.
